touch at your own risk

One thing I have learned from my short time in Ireland is that men seem to believe that because I am an American that I will simply fall into bed with them.

Our first night out in Dublin found me and my two girlfriends at a bar and we made friends with a couple of local men; one in particular seemed to possess that personality of… Well, I’ll call it douchebaggary. He flirted with all three of us, including my one friend who is married and who stated several times over the course of the evening that she’s married and loves her husband very much. Along with flirting with us, he was flirting heavily with three women from Holland. At one point, he called us bitches, which he totally claimed as a term of endearment. I came a bit unhinged. The following is a paraphrase of what I told him…

“‘Bitches’ is not a term of endearment. You will not flirt with me all night, including STICKING YOUR TOUNGE IN MY EAR, doing the same to another friend, and not listening to the polite decline from my married friend, and THEN call us bitches. ‘Bitches’ is a derogatory term and it does not fly with me.”

Yes, I am a feminist.

I spent two nights in Kilkenny with my married friend and, twice in one night, I experienced two different men who believed they had the right to grab my ass. One was drunk, one was not, but I still felt my personhood was violated.

The first man, Paul, was drunk and partaking of his brother’s stag night (bachelor party). While laying his hand on my ass, he paid me the complement, “you’ve got the best ass I’ve ever seen.” maybe to make me feel better at the fact that he saw it as his privilege to touch what was not his to touch. This is what I said to him…

Excuse me, but is that your hand on my ass? Did you really think it was okay to touch my ass without asking permission first? Paul, get your hand off my ass.

The next man was on the same night and at a different stag party. We ran across Shane and his mates celebrating Shane’s impending nuptials and were promptly invited into the festivities. All was well and it was a lot of fun being the estrogen presence in a sea of testosterone. While some of Shane’s mates were really cool, other’s were not. Again, one man was tipsy enough to think it was okay to touch what was not his to enjoy. The following is an honest reenactment of my interaction with him…

“are you really touching my ass without my permission? That sucks because I like your mate, Shane, and I like you guys; if you would have asked to touch my ass I would have probably said yes, but now that you’ve gone and done it like it was your fucking right, I’m pissed.”

Come to find out, he also has a girlfriend…

“and how would you feel if your lady was out and some stranger grabbed her like you just did me?”

Later, he propositioned me again…

“do you still have a girlfriend? Then step away because I am not that kind of lady.”

I love that I don’t take shit from men. I AM NOT PROPERTY FOR YOU TO TOUCH AT YOUR WHIMSY AND WILL. I am my own person and, if treated with dignity and respect, I may actually let you do what you want as long as I want it, too.

My next come back will be to ask them about their relationship with their maternal parental figure. That will be ice water on the situation.

On my way to Belfast for the last leg of our trip. Can’t wait to see what’s in store for us there.



One thought on “touch at your own risk

  1. You are such a badass feminist and I LOVE YOU! Can’t wait to hear more stories when you get back. And not just ones about creepy men touching your ass. 😉

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